Crap. Scolded out by his best friend.

Damn Alyssa Locke.

Nils did a quick head count as he approached the extraction point, the men around him barking like seals to let the Marines know whoad bested them.

Chief OaLeary, Ensign Mike Muldoon, Jenk, Rick, Steve, and Junior. His Team Bravo was all there, as were the trucks that would take them back to the base.

Nils had done it. Head fucking won the no-win scenario.

There was a helo there as well, he realized. A puddle jumper.

Anda"surprise, surprisea"Lieutenant Tom Paoletti, commanding officer of SEAL Team Sixteen, was standing beside it, arms crossed. Nils hadnat expected to see his CO tonight. Not out here, anyway. And there was another man next to Paoletti, but he was even farther in the shadows and Nils couldnat make out his face.

Was the CO mad or was he merely cold? It was too dark to see his eyes, but there was something of a chill in the desert air.

Petty Officer Second Class Mark Jenkins more than made up for Paolettias seeming lack of enthusiasm. Jenk practically did a cartwheel. aYou did it, Lieutenant! You beat the no-win scenario!a He started another round of barking among the men.

aBy cheating.a The man beside the CO stepped into the light, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Shit. It was Admiral Larry Tucker. What was he doing here?

Senior Chief Wolchonok came and planted himself beside Nilsson, an unmovable rock, ready to go into battle with him for a second time that night. And the rest of the team fell right in behind hima"including Captain Chang. Nils nearly laughed aloud. The elation head felt at winning was nothing compared to this show of support from his teammates. He looked Tucker straight in the eye. Come on, dickhead, give it your best shot.

aThere was a security breach of the computer system last night.a Tucker glared at Nils. aI assume youare behind that, Lieutenant? Or maybe youad like to go back to being an ensign again? Maybe three years wasnat enough.a Ah, Christ. Bring that up, why donat you?

But from behind him, Nils heard Sam Starrett cough into his hand, aAsshole,a and he had to struggle not to laugh.

Lieutenant Paoletti stepped forward. aAdmiral Tuckera"a But Tucker had fixed his death-ray gaze on WildCard, who was doing his best to look angelica"not an easy task for a guy who looked an awful lot like the devil incarnate. aThis smells like one of your stupid tricks, Mr. Karmody. Before this is over, weare going to find that youare involved, arenat we?a aNo, sir,a WildCard said.

Nils knew he meant aNo, sir, youare not going to find anything.a WildCard was a hacker extraordinaire. He didnat leave calling cards. At least none that Tucker or his staff would be able to find.

aPersonally, Admiral,a Paoletti said mildly, aIam of the opinion that if Lieutenant Nilsson and Petty Officer Karmody did hack into the computer to gain knowledge of tonightas training op, they should be commended for their attempt to go into this mission as fully prepared as possible. If this situation were real, and that was an Iraqi computer theyad compromiseda"a aBut it wasnat an Iraqi computer. It was a U.S. Navya"a aI really donat see the difference.a The CO had the balls to interrupt the admiral. aSEALs are trained to seek unconventional alternatives and options for every given situation. Lieutenant Nilsson should be commended for his initiative.a Nils realized that while he was speaking, Paoletti had managed to move so that he, too, was standing beside him, with the team. aGood job, Lieutenant,a Paoletti said. He held out his hand.

Nils shook it. aThank you, sir.a From over on his left, Wolchonok let out a resounding, aHoo-yah!a It was a cry that the rest of the men, both officers and enlisted, echoed.

The senior was grinning at him, and Nils smiled back, knowing head remember this moment for the rest of his life.

A vein stood out on Tuckeras forehead. aLieutenant Paoletti, are youa"a aGoing to have a beer with Lieutenant Nilsson and my men? Definitely.a Paoletti cut him off again, turning this time to the men in Nilsas Bravo Team. aWhat, do you guys have tomorrow off or something, staying out like this all night?a They shrugged, and Jenk answered for them. aNo, sir, musteras at oh-five hundred. Weall be there.a aLetas see if we canat spell this out so Admiral Tucker will be sure to understand,a Paoletti said. aWe have here an ensign, a chief, and four petty officers whoa"even though I didnat hand out this assignment, even though this was their time off, including their time to sleepa"have spent an entire night participating in a training op. And the reason theyave done this is . . .a He looked at OaLeary. aCan you help me out here, Chief?a The taciturn chief shrugged. aBecause Nilsa"Lieutenant Nilssona"asked.a The other SEALs nodded.

aBecause Lieutenant Nilsson asked,a the CO repeated.

Tucker was finally silent, and Nils actually felt sorry for the SOB. When was the last time anyone did anything for him simply because he asked instead of ordered?

aYou guys have tomorrow off,a Paoletti told them. aGood job tonight. All of you. Lieutenant Howe,a he called to the waiting helo pilot, aI think the admiralas ready to return to the base. Iall be driving back with my men.a Poor Teri Howe. She had to fly back to Coronado with only Admiral Tucker for company. She sent a longing glance in Mike Muldoonas direction, but as usual, the newest member of Team Sixteen was oblivious. He was already in deep discussion with the senior chief.

Nils held his breath until Tucker was safely on the helo and off the ground.

Lieutenant Paoletti turned to Nils and sighed. aWhat am I going to do with you, Johnny?a aJust promote him to admiral, L.T., and get it over with,a Sam Starrett drawled. aThen he can fight it out with Tucker himself.a aLetas get moving.a Wolchonok began herding the team.

aI support your creativity, Lieutenant,a Paoletti said to Nils as they headed for the trucks. aYou know I do. But weare going to have to have a talk. Tomorrow. Fifteen hundred. My office. This stuntas going to get some attention, and not just from Admiral Tucker.a Nils shook his head. aPlease donat ask me to apologize for winning, L.T.a aIam not going to do that. But we might need to do some explaining.a Paolettias cell phone shrilled. He glanced at his watch, and Nils automatically checked his own timepiece.

It was 0343. Who was calling the CO at this hour? Was it possible Tucker was so determined to crucify him that head already started spreading the word?

Paoletti found the pocket that held his phone as it rang again. aThis canat be good.a aOh, Tommy,a WildCard singsonged obnoxiously. aItas your wife!a As Paoletti opened his phone and stepped aside to take the call, Nils quickly moved to intercept WildCard. He wasnat the only one. Wolchonok and Jazz Jacquette also made a beeline for the gangly SEAL.

aSheas not his wife,a Wolchonok said bluntly. aSo shut the fuck up.a aWhoa,a WildCard said, blinking. aI was just kidding, Senior. I wasa"a aItas becoming something of an issue for L.T.,a Nils explained, his voice low. aHe wants to get married, and she keeps putting it off.a aWho, Kelly?a WildCard was genuinely surprised. It was obvious that for once he hadnat meant to be an asshole.

aYes, Kelly,a Jazz told him. aEvery time L.T. tries to pin her down to a wedding date, her pager conveniently goes off.a WildCard laughed. aNo way. Sheas crazy about him. Whenever she comes to see him at the base, I swear, itas not even five minutes before he locks the door to his office anda"a Jazz gave him a silencing look as Lieutenant Paoletti shut his phone with a snap and approached them.

aProblem, sir?a Wolchonok asked.

aThat day offas going to have to wait,a the CO announced. aThat was Admiral Crowley on the phone. He wanted to know if I knew where Lt. John Nilsson was.a Oh, shit. Nils had always thought of Crowley as one of the good guys. The admiral was a SEAL himself. If he was pissed about this . . .

aWeave got to move,a the CO continued. He was talking to Jazz and Wolchonok now, but the rest of the team had stopped to listen, too. aThe entire teamas going wheels up ASAP. Weave been ordered to provide assistance to an FBI counter-terrorist team in DC. Thereas a hostage situation in the Kazbekistani embassy.a He turned and looked at Nils. aAnd the hostage taker will only negotiate with Johnny Nilsson.a

Three.

MEG HELD ON tightly to her gun as she stared across the menas room at Osman Razeen.

All three of her hostages sat on the floor, their hands carefully on their knees. But only Razeenas eyes were open. He stared back at her, watching her as intently as she watched him.

Did he know why she was here? Could he tell just by looking into her eyes that she would kill him, ruthlessly, if she had to? Did he even suspect that she might well be his assigned executioner?

It had been ten hours since shead sent the fat man out of the room, and there was only silence in the hall outside. Ten hoursa"and she was completely exhausted. Who wouldave guessed sitting on a bathroom floor could be so completely draining?

It was definitely time to check in.

Ten hours was plenty of time for the FBI or the Mission: Impossible team or whoever the heck was out there to rig their miniature cameras and high-powered microphones, running them into this room through the air vents, or up through the plumbing in the sinks anda"why not?a"even the toilets.

Meg cleared her throat and spoke for the first time in all those hours. aI want to know if Ens. John Nilsson has been contacted.a The two other hostages opened their eyes. They glanced at each other, and one of them opened his mouth to speak.

Meg cut him off. aI wasnat talking to you.a She raised her voice only slightly. aI know you can hear me. Iad like my question answered, please.a From the bottom of her handbag, her cell phone rang.

Shead imagined them yelling the answers to her questions right through the closed bathroom door. Shead feel right at homea"that was one of Amyas favorite forms of communication.

Oh, God, she wanted Amy.

She let the phone ring until she was sure she could answer it without her voice wavering. She couldnat sound weak. She couldnat let them think they could just walk in here and take the gun away from her.

Even if that was the truth.

Taking a deep breath and holding the gun with her right hand, she reached into her bag with her left, her eyes never leaving her hostages. She flipped the phone open.

aGuess you figured out who I am, huh?a She tried her best to sound flip, casual. As if she were a hardened terrorist whoad taken hostages a dozen, no, a hundred times before.

aMs. Moore, my name is Max Bhagat and Iama"a aHas John Nilsson been found?a All those relentless sales calls from AT&T and MCI were finally paying off. After years of practice, Meg didnat even feel compelled to wait until he took a breath before she cut him off.

aMs. Moore, it would help a great deal if we knewa"a Meg hung up the phone. She couldnat talk to him. She couldnat listen. Max Bhagat was an FBI negotiator. A professional. He had to be. And she couldnat afford to let him distract or confuse her. It had to be John she spoke to. Only John.

The phone rang again, and she let it go for six long rings before answering.

aThat was a yes/no question,a she said. No hello. Right to the point. Shead never been so rude in all her life. aLetas try it again. Has John Nilsson been found?a There was only the slightest pause before Bhagat replied. aYes.a aIs he coming?a aYes.a aHis ETA?a aWe just located him. Itas hard to know exactlya"a aGuess.a aSix or seven hours?a Oh, God. aSix hours. Make it six,a she said, and hung up the phone. Six more hours. Dear, sweet Jesus, help her. Another six hours and she would be dead.

Tired, she corrected herself. Please, God, only dead tired.

Dead would no doubt come later.

When they were pulled out of the back of the van by a man who wasnat wearing a mask, Eve knew that she and Amy wouldnat be left alive.

It was almost absurd, after the life shead led, that it should all end here.

Shead survived the tragic death of both her parents at age fifteen.

Shead survived moving from her beloved southern California all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to England, a country where the drizzle seemed relentless and the sun never shone quite as stronga"a country shead learned to love with all her heart.

Shead survived the War. The terrible war with Nazi Germany. Shead lived through the Battle of Britain, as the German Luftwaffe bombed the English coast night after excruciatingly endless night.

Anda"speaking of excruciatinga"shead survived the disco era, too. She mustnat forget about that.

The thought wouldave been ridiculous enough to make her smile even as she was roughly dragged up the overgrown path to a ramshackle two-story house, if it hadnat been for Amy.

Face it. Eve had lived darn near forever. Three quarters of a century was a long time. And while she wasnat eager for it to be over, shead lived a full life and could gracefully accept whatever fate had in store for her.

But she could accept no such thing for Amy.

The girl was still almost completely out of it from whatever drug theyad both been given to knock them out. Eve carried her awkwardly, with her hands tied in front of her, even though her bones creaked from sitting still for so many hours, even though she barely limped along.

The thought that Amyas life was about to end was obscene. Megas daughter was so young, so beautiful. She had Megas glorious dark eyes. And even though she had her perfidious fatheras hair, on Amy it was gorgeousa"thick and dark, a tumble of curls down her back.

Eve had longed for such hair when she was younger. Shead been born with straight, baby fine, wispy blond hair.

Amy whimpered like a child half her age and clung to Eveas neck, and Eve glared at the man who had such a tight hold on her arm. She would have finger-shaped bruises there come the morning.

aIam seventy-five years old,a she told him. aIf you push me again, I might fall and break my already too-painful hip. And then where would we be?a Spending her last few moments on earth in serious pain, unable to comfort Amy. Eve could see that answer in the manas eyes.

God help them.

She limped up the stairs and into the house where another man and a woman, both carrying enormous guns, looking like commandos from a bad movie, pushed her into a room with no furnishings.

She shifted Amy higher up, her muscles screaming from carrying a ten-year-old girl, as she looked around.

The room was completely bare, save for the balls of dust on the floor.

The walls were dull, the dingy shades were pulled tightly down. French doors with smudgy glass opened into another rooma"a dining room. It held a rickety card table and some gray metal folding chairs. Beyond that, through an open door, Eve could see a glimpse of a kitchen, decorated in what she knew had once been cheery oranges and avocado greens, but both had aged to a very similar shade of putrid brown.

One of the mena"there were four, and one womana"closed the French doors with a rattle that made Amy lift her head.

Where are we? Who are you? Why are we here?

Eve had tried those questions when they pulled off the highway to take a very public personal hygiene break by the side of a deserted road. Shead persisted after theyad been tied back up and unceremoniously loaded back into the van.

That and Amyas crying had gotten them another set of needles in their arms, and more of that mind numbing unconsciousness. Shead dreamed about running. The five-kilometer Dover Dash that shead first entered when she turned fifty. Only, in her dream, she was being chased by Nazis. If they caught her, she was dead.

Eve wasnat going to risk another dose of drugs, or an even more permanent solution, so this time she kept her mouth firmly shut.

aSit,a she was ordered, so she sat. Lowering Amy to the hard floor first, then creakily joining her, she took the child back into her arms as her captors spoke quietly in a language she didnat understand.

The man who had spoken wanted to be the leader. Head been one of the two men in the van. He was shorter than the other men, but he clearly wanted to be in charge.

The other one whoad been in the van, Mr. Push-the-old-lady-up-the-stairs, was full of complaints. That was obvious even though Eve couldnat understand a word of what they were saying. But he gestured, he pouted, he whined. And a whine was a whine, whatever the language.

The other men were silent. One of them was enormous, a great huge bear of a young man.

They were all young, barely more than children. The oldest couldnat have been more than twenty-five.

The oldest was the woman. She had dark hair pulled severely back from her face in a ponytail and eyes that were already dead. All five of them had those enormous guns, but the woman held hers as if it were a natural extension of her arms. She was the one who was in charge. Eve could tell that with one look.

Eve saw from Amyas ragged breathing that she was very close to tears. As a sob escaped, the woman looked over at them sharply. Best not to get that one angry. It wouldnat take much to push her over the edge.

Eve held Amy more tightly, hushing her, murmuring words of reassurance that she didnat quite believe. aItall be all right.a She rocked Amy gently in her arms, like shead done when the little girl was just a baby. Her eyelids drooped, and she sagged against Eve, giving in to the last remaining vestiges of the drug. Thank God.

Thank God.

Eve had never been one to spend a lot of time in prayer, begging for miracles. She was far more a student of the aGod helps those who help themselvesa school. But if there were ever a time she could use a little deus ex machina, it was now.

It didnat have to be much, God. It didnat have to be a black helicopter filled with those U.S. Navy SEALs that Meg had spoken of so many times, with such admiration in her voice.

A sudden, intense fatigue that all five of their kidnappers came down with at once would certainly do it. Eve could haul Amy into her arms and steal away with her into the darkness of the woods and swamp that seemed to surround this run-down old house on three sides.

Please, God, donat let Amyas life end here.

Eve could remember when she herself was nearly as young as Amy, when her own life was stretching out in front of her with such limitless possibilities. She could remember 1939, the year she was fifteen. She hadnat been quite so innocent and sweet as Amy was at ten, but still, shead been filled with such hope despite the fact that Hitler was terrifying people in England with the threat of war.

Shead been fifteen and still a child, but all grown-up as well. Shead been both mother and father to Nick, her little brother. Head been Amyas age that yeara"tena"and so like Amy in so many ways, so furiously, joyfully alive despite all the hurdles life had sent their way.

Eve closed her eyes, remembering the hurdle she and Nick had been so afraid ofa"a hurdle named Ralph Grayson. Head been hired on as Nickyas tutora"a young Englishman sent to spend the summer with them in Ramsgate, to teach Nick the impossiblea"to teach him to read.

She could see Ralphas face as clearly as if it were yesterday. He had a beautiful face, although clearly he didnat think so, with a long English nose, exquisite cheekbones, and a high forehead. He had wavy brown hair and hazel eyes that twinkled with good humor when he was amused, and glowed with such intensity when he was passionate.

And it didnat take much to make him passionate. Shakespeare. Wilde. Shaw. Higher mathematics. Science. History. Oh, history could make the man forget proprietya"no small thing for an Englishmana"and turn literal cartwheels across the estate lawn.

Head captivated Nicky. And Eve as well. No, it wasnat long before he became everything to her. Best friend, confidant, teacher, hero.